


a golden opportunity

by failwolfhale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:32:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1544390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/failwolfhale/pseuds/failwolfhale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles head back to Beacon Hills after their finals but Derek has one last surprise before they head back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a golden opportunity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [officerstilinskihale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/officerstilinskihale/gifts).



> I wrote this back in December for Juily and it's on my tumblr but I realized I never posted it here so I decided to do that now. So here it is haha.

Stiles really hates Chinese. Not the food but mandarin Chinese? The language? Yea. He definitely hates that with a burning passion. He can’t believe he let the others talk him into taking it in college. He vaguely remembers a discussion about how Lydia already knew Latin and Derek and Scott both are fluent in Spanish and Allison was fluent in French and Jackson surprisingly knew Italian because his parents had a house in Tuscany. Erica claimed Portuguese and Boyd snatched up Russian with Isaac stealing Turkish. So what was left for Stiles that would be of practical use to the pack? Chinese, apparently.

“I hate this,” Stiles snaps for the millionth time and throws his pen hard onto the table, arms folded as he fumes silently at his textbook. 

Derek looks up from where he’s sitting on the tiny couch in Stiles’ student apartment and rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “You just sent me a three page text last week about how cool mandarin was and how beautiful you thought it looked when it was written,” he points out while Stiles shoves a finger in his direction.

“I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was saying,” he argues back and Derek sighs, goes back to the book he was reading that looks about a million years old. 

While the pack mostly split up for college, Derek decided to take the opportunity to finish his masters in history that he’d just started on in New York when Laura was killed and he was drawn back to California. Somehow he ended up at Stanford with Stiles and was living in a house with three other grad students who barely talked to each other because they were too busy working on their theses so he spent most of his time at Stiles’. Stiles’ scholarships covered his room and board so he’d been living in a small crappy student apartment on campus for the last three years that, while it was the size of a postage stamp and smelled a bit like smoke and mildew, he at least didn’t have to share with anyone. Plus it had a kitchen even if it was pretty much microscopic. It was big enough for him and Derek. 

Stiles sighs and glares at his notebook as if he could set it aflame just by willing it but when that doesn’t work he turns his glare to Derek. “Distract me,” he pleads and Derek doesn’t even look up from his book.

“You’re supposed to be studying for your Chinese final tomorrow. This is your last one, Stiles,” he reasons calmly and Stiles makes noises of protest before standing up. He grabs his books and shuffles over to the couch, shoving Derek over and then flopping down with his head on Derek’s thigh. “What are you doing?” 

“Studying, what’s it look like,” Stiles grumbles back as he opens the book and props it up on his chest to study the symbols that he’s never going to learn the meaning of by the following day. He just needs a seventy and he would get the credit. Otherwise he’d have to take the CLEP test and he really hoped he wouldn’t have to stoop to that.

Derek sighs and stays quiet and Stiles figures since his head wasn’t shoved away that Derek’s allowing him this at least. Everyone but Derek seems to know that Stiles has been harboring feelings for the older man since senior year of high school and almost invited him to senior prom before James Cuenod asked Stiles first. The fact that he and Derek had become somewhat like best friends in the last three years since Stiles started college? Not really helping in the whole ‘unrequited feelings’ department. Stiles tries not to think about it most days. 

++

Stiles stumbles out of the test hall the next day with a huge yawn and dark circles under his eyes because even though he’d gone to sleep early the night before he hadn’t slept well. Derek melts out of the shadows and it’s a testament to how much time Stiles has spent around the pack that he doesn’t even jump, just accepts the coffee Derek holds out to him gratefully. 

“So?” Derek prompts when Stiles doesn’t say anything besides a thank you.

“I’m just glad it’s over and I never have to take Chinese again. I don’t know why you guys thought it would be a good idea for me to take it,” Stiles huffs out and Derek rolls his eyes.

“It came in handy last spring break when that Jiang Shi showed up in town and you were the only one who could translate the literature that we needed to learn how to defeat it,” Derek points out and Stiles huffs but it sounds more like grudging agreement than anything. 

“Whatever, I’m still just glad it’s over,” he grumbles and bumps his shoulder against Derek’s, looking over at him. “Thanks for the coffee. Really, I appreciate it. Finals are a killer.” 

“Chinese was your last one right?” Derek asks and Stiles nods back.

“Junior year is finally over. I can spend the next three months playing video games in my boxers with Scott,” he groans happily and Derek rolls his eyes, wrinkles his nose. 

“I’d really rather not think about Scott in his boxers,” he says and Stiles laughs before they fall into a comfortable silence, each sipping from their own cups. 

It’s late afternoon and the end of spring so the sun is shining bright in the huge blue sky above them as they aim for Stiles’ apartment building on autopilot. A few wispy clouds float in front of the sun to cast a few seconds of relief from its heat but it comes back quickly and Stiles loves it, loves the heat wave that’s sent the entire city into shorts and flip flops. 

“Did you tell your dad when you’d be back home?” Derek asks after a few minutes.

Stiles looks over at him and shakes his head, expression curious. “Nope, not yet. Why?” 

“Let’s take a detour on the way home. There’s something I want to see,” he suggests and Stiles raises his eyebrows but honestly he would follow Derek anywhere.

“Okay, sure,” he agrees without a moment of hesitation and it’s totally worth it for the small smile that makes Derek’s whole face light up. 

++

It takes them two days to finish packing. Derek’s already done of course but he goes over to help Stiles get rid of all his cheap college junk food and the random candy wrappers that are strewn all over the place. They take out two bags of trash and a recycling bin of random beer and wine bottles because Stiles turned twenty one and was finally allowed to have it legally. Even though Derek was the one who drank most of it because he’d promised the sheriff that he’d make sure Stiles took it easy. Stiles was responsible though and never complained about the missing beers. 

Stiles says goodbye to the friends he’d made and promises to keep in touch even though Derek can hear the skip in his heart that says he probably won’t. Derek knows Stiles likes those people but they’d already talked about it. Stiles had explained that while they were good people, there was no use growing attached to them because Stiles’ place was in Beacon Hills with the pack and he could never imagine bringing any of them into the fold. The same was said for most of the people Stiles had dated and Derek was always quietly supportive of Stiles’ decisions even if he kept his distance. Stiles really appreciated that. 

They pack up Derek’s truck - Laura’s Camaro stayed in Beacon Hills with Boyd, Stiles’ Jeep waiting for him at his father’s house - and their things fit neatly in the bed. Neither of them dragged that much to college because after freshman year, Stiles learned that it was way too much work to have more than just what was absolutely necessary when he had to lug it back and forth every summer.

Stiles hooks up his phone to the radio jack and plays the one playlist that he and Derek both agree on and occasionally add songs to if they both like them. It’s a lot of older stuff like the Animals and Metallica, Led Zeppelin and Air Supply and Kansas. But it’s some newer stuff too. Derek has a thing for Katy Perry that Stiles teases him about but quietly agrees with and Stiles has a love affair with One Direction that Derek can mildly tolerate. They stop to grab burgers at In-N-Out and Stiles tells Derek bad jokes while Derek throws french fries at him in protest. Stiles doesn’t complain because free french fries are never a bad thing. 

Derek won’t tell Stiles where they’re going and Stiles only asks a couple of times before just being satisfied with trying to figure out the surprise. They take the 101 up through San Mateo towards San Francisco instead of taking the Dumbarton Bridge over the bay towards Fremont and up to Sacramento where they could get on highway 5 that goes straight up to Beacon Hills. When Stiles points this out though, Derek just gives him a look and Stiles sighs but shuts his mouth, figuring that Derek knows what he’s doing. 

Eventually Derek pulls off the highway just before they get to the bridge and they pull into a lot to park. Stiles looks around and raises his brows when he sees nothing but other cars and public transportation busses. 

“You...wanted to see a Park’n’Ride?” he asks with a bit of confusion and the sigh that Derek lets out is one of the weary. 

“Yes, Stiles, I wanted to take a huge detour just to see this specific Park’n’Ride,” he says sarcastically and then gets out of the car, sliding his phone in his pocket and obviously waiting for Stiles to do the same. 

So Stiles sighs and gets out, phone and wallet in his pocket, and Derek locks the car as Stiles moves around to his side.

“You told me once that you’ve lived in Stanford for three years but you’ve never been to see the Golden Gate Bridge so, we’re going to the Golden Gate Bridge,” Derek explains as they cut across the parking lot to the sidewalk. 

Stiles’ eyebrows shoot up and something warm and affectionate settles in his chest and in that moment he just wants to tug Derek in by his ears and kiss him silly. He stifles all the emotions swirling up though and gives Derek a small, genuine smile, bumps their shoulders together. “That’s...thanks, Derek,” he tells the older man gently and watches with some awe as Derek ducks his head like he’s embarrassed. 

Derek’s loosened up a lot in the last few years and Stiles knows he’s not emotionless of course. Derek doesn’t try to hide his feelings like he once did. But the idea that anything to do with Stiles could ever embarrass Derek is beyond his comprehension. 

They walk close beside each other even though the air is warm and humid and the sun beats down on their shoulders and faces. Derek is wearing a plain olive colored vneck with dark jeans and aviators over his eyes to shield the sun while Stiles is dressed similarly but in a grey tshirt that has all the names of the direwolves in Game of Thrones and plain black Wayfarers. Their elbows bump and Stiles keeps sneaking glances over at Derek every couple of minutes. They don’t really talk but the silence is comfortable and Stiles makes himself enjoy it. 

Contrary to popular belief, Stiles never had a real problem with keeping things inside. He just had trouble stopping once he got started. He didn’t mind the quiet though and even actively chased it, enjoyed the peacefulness of it. 

There were a few people walking across the bridge or riding their bikes but it wasn’t crowded like Stiles thought it might’ve been on a beautiful day like it was. He supposes people are still at work or still in school since it’s only eleven thirty. Derek stops only after about twenty or so minutes of walking and they move towards the railing to look out over the bay and the city beyond. Stiles looks left and right and figures that they’re just about in the exact middle of the bridge, give or take a couple of yards.

Stiles takes a deep breath of warm salty air and closes his eyes to better focus on the warmth of the sun on his skin, displaced every so often by a cool wind that ruffles his hair. He looks over at Derek and just studies his face and he knows that Derek knows he’s looking but Derek doesn’t say anything so Stiles doesn’t either. For a moment. Then, “Why did you bring me here, Derek?” 

Derek twitches imperceptibly to anyone who hadn’t known him as long as Stiles and then he turns his head to look back at him. Derek’s expression is calm and innocent but Stiles would bet that underneath his sunglasses there’s some sort of other emotion swirling in his eyes. “Because you said you wanted to come,” he answers simply. 

Stiles sighs. “Yes, but...why? I mean, why do you care? Why do this just for me? This is a whole like...forty five minutes out of the way,” he clarifies, running fingers through his hair and then taking off his sunglasses. 

Derek stares and then does the same, folding the arms and hanging them carefully from his shirt before looking back at Stiles again with a shrug. “You’ve been stressing yourself out over your finals for the last three weeks. It’s been awhile since I saw you smile, I just thought…” He trails off and shrugs again, looking almost like he regrets the whole thing. 

“That I would smile here,” Stiles finishes and Derek looks back up at him, shrugs. Stiles is really tired of him shrugging. “So...you drove forty five minutes out of the way...just so that I would smile again? I was smiling in the car on the way here.” 

“It wasn’t the same,” Derek huffs and now he looks frustrated and Stiles just really does not understand. “The way you looked just now...it was different. Like this huge weight was taken off your shoulders. You’ve been tense and it makes me tense. I just wanted...I don’t know. I wanted you to be happy again.” 

Stiles blinks and he stares and it must be too long that he’s not said anything because then Derek’s hunching up his shoulders and shoving off the railing. “Never mind, let’s just go,” he huffs out and Stiles flails before grabbing Derek’s wrist to stop him.

“What? No! I mean, we just got here and...I’m really glad you brought me. I’m glad it was with you,” he says, voice gentle but honest. He sees the tension bleed out of Derek’s shoulders slowly as he reads the truth in Stiles’ words and body language and Derek nods, lets Stiles pull him back to the railing. “I know it’s the ocean and not like a fountain but if you throw a penny over the edge do you get a wish?” 

Derek snorts and shakes his head, looks over at Stiles with raised brows. “I don’t really think it works like that,” he answers with some amusement. 

“Do you wanna know what I’d wish for?” Stiles asks with a cheeky smile as nerves swirl low in his belly. 

“I thought if you tell someone your wish then it won’t come true.”

Stiles shrugs and shifts a little closer to Derek, looking over his features fondly. “I dunno. I have a pretty good feeling this one might come true anyways,” he hums so Derek motions him to go on. “I would wish that a certain alpha would stop being so damn stubborn and finally just kiss me.” He steels himself as Derek snaps his head up to look at Stiles and Stiles just raises his eyebrows in question, heart slamming rapidly against his ribs.

Derek hesitates but shuffles forward a couple inches and Stiles rolls his eyes before reaching out to fist his hands in Derek’s shirt, pulling him forward. Their lips slot together easily and Stiles feels something loosen in his chest as Derek lets his hands rest on Stiles’ hips. It isn’t rushed or frantic or desperate like Stiles had often imagined their first kiss to be but it _is_ pretty perfect. Derek is a line of solid heat along his front and it feels like there’s electricity in his veins, sending all his nerve endings into a frenzy so every touch is magnified tenfold. Stiles wonders somewhere in the recesses of his mind if this is what it’s like to be a werewolf.

Derek pulls back first and rests their heads together, both of them breathing each other’s air. “Technically your wish didn’t come true,” is the first thing Derek whispers and he’s rewarded with a surprised but happy bark of laughter from Stiles that makes his nose crinkle and his eyes shine, fingers curling tighter in the back of Derek’s shirt.

“Well, wishes can’t always come true,” Stiles tells him almost seriously but he’s smiling widely and Derek leans in again to taste it.

**Author's Note:**

> come [tumble](http://failwolfhale.tumblr.com) with me. :)


End file.
